


swaying from season to season

by hwangje (sehyxn)



Series: dyed in scenic beauty [2]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Magic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Songfic, happy onghwang week!!, sequel to we were once beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 19:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15713364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sehyxn/pseuds/hwangje
Summary: Minhyun and Seongwoo, and their love through the seasons.(or: love, and loss, and how Seongwoo learns to cope with both a little better.)





	swaying from season to season

   

_flowers fall on the narrow pathway_

_if our footsteps halt before the sunlight_

_streaming through the leaves_

_this is where we part._

 

_(the words lingering in my mouth–_

_i have always loved you.)_

 

  

[ ❀ ]

 

“Say ah,” Seongwoo coos.

Minhyun rolls his eyes, but parts his lips anyway, letting Seongwoo slide a strawberry past them. Then he nips playfully at Seongwoo’s finger, and laughs when Seongwoo jerks back, yelping indignantly.

“I feed you like a good boyfriend and this is what I get,” Seongwoo grumbles, nursing his finger. Minhyun beams at him innocently.

“Hey, I wonder who planned this picnic and then didn’t even wake up in time to help with food prep,” Minhyun teases, picking up another strawberry, only for Seongwoo to eat it right off his fingers.

“You still love me,” Seongwoo grins, kissing Minhyun’s fingers for good measure.

Minhyun laughs, bright and clear in the midspring evening, and shifts to lie down on Seongwoo’s lap. He closes his eyes, basking in the gentle warmth of the sun’s rays filtering through golden-green leaves, and Seongwoo rests his hand on the crown of Minhyun’s head, stroking his hair absently.

“It’s a pity the cherry blossoms haven’t bloomed yet,” Seongwoo sighs, leaning back against a tree to gaze wistfully up at its branches speckled with tiny buds. “So much for all those forecasts.”

Minhyun doesn’t say anything, just watches Seongwoo thoughtfully for several moments. Then he reaches out, past Seongwoo, to rest his hand on the tree’s coarse bark.

“What are you...” Seongwoo begins, only to trail off when the buds slowly unfurl with the shimmering of magic, soft pink petals flourishing against the purple-tinged dusk. Before long, they’re veiled in curtains of cherry blossoms, glistening as if sprinkled with morning dew and stardust.

"It’s beautiful,” Seongwoo breathes, once he’s found his voice, “thank you.”

Minhyun doesn’t reply. Seongwoo looks down, then can’t stop the fond laughter that bubbles up when he realises Minhyun’s fallen asleep, like he always does after he uses his magic and it’s sapped him of his energy.

Catching a falling blossom, Seongwoo tucks it behind Minhyun’s ear, then leans down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

“Silly,” Seongwoo murmurs, “I don’t need to go flower-viewing when I have one right by my side.”

 

 

_dance, whirl, cherry blossoms of the night,_

_ride on a dream, and songbird’s wings_

_until the last breath of spring_

_even if your memories may slip away._

  

 

[ ☼ ]

 

The wind whips through their hair, tousling, coasting their laughter past rustling leaves and black-hot roads.

They haven’t planned exactly where they’re going, but then again none of their roadtrips have ever gone according to plan, so at this point they’ve learnt to embrace the spontaneity and follow where the roads (or their stomachs, Minhyun likes to remind Seongwoo) takes them. Seongwoo’s put on a playlist of the latest hits, and as much as Minhyun likes to tease him for his mainstream taste in music, he can’t deny how much fun it is to belt the catchy tunes out to the open road and the expanse of clear blue sky, making up their own lyrics when they forget the words.

The sunset brings gentle pinks and purples and a soothing indie playlist with all of Minhyun’s favourite bands. Seongwoo slows down to match the music, cruising along the winding seaside road and listening to Minhyun hum along to the songs, dulcet tones lilting in the breeze.

 

 

Darkness washes over them sooner than expected, so they pull over at the first motel they see. It’s a quaint little building, with giant neon signs flashing dizzyingly as if to make up for the paint peeling off in places. A little seedy, maybe, but Minhyun takes Seongwoo’s hand in his and nothing else matters anymore.

They end up in a room with a window that’s half blocked by a next-door building, which does explain the cheap price, but does absolutely no favours for the room’s ventilation. There’s only one bed and the sweltering heat makes it near impossible to cuddle close, so they drag the covers onto the floor and sprawl atop them, stretching out cramped limbs and sore joints.

“Getting old?” Minhyun teases, eyes crinkling in amusement as Seongwoo’s neck makes an audible _crack_. Seongwoo scowls, and lobs a pillow at Minhyun.

They wake up to the warmth of the sun’s rays and their hands in each other’s, blankets kicked off in their sleep but legs still tangled together anyway. The heat lingers around them like a second skin, but as they laugh, blissful just from waking up to each other, the unrelenting summer seems just that little bit more bearable.

 

 

_dance, whirl, cool breeze,_

_while you were slick with sweat from the summer_

_your hair was hidden by the clouds_

_yet i still yearn to be enraptured by you for all of eternity._

 

_(even if you are destined to die.)_

 

  

[ ♣ ]

 

"Guess we'll just have to stay indoors," Minhyun sighs.  
  
Outside, the dark clouds have shrouded the city in a hazy filter, as if painting the skies with ash for the rain to wash away later. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbles. Their pumpkin-shaped buckets, filled to the brim with candy, sit untouched on the table, and Seongwoo pokes at one mournfully.

“I even prepared costumes and everything,” Seongwoo whines, glaring balefully at the sky.

Minhyun huffs. “Excuse you? You didn’t have to spend the better part of this morning trying to get your costume to stay on,” he laments, looking forlornly down at the laces on his vest. “What kind of a concept is _vampire prince_ anyway? I look like I stepped out of a sappy gothic novel.”

“Guess I’ll just have to take it off you then,” Seongwoo grins, and promptly pounces on Minhyun, tackling him to the couch. Minhyun lands on it with a sound that’s somewhere in between laughter and the wind being knocked out of him, and bats Seongwoo’s hands away from the strings on his outfit.

“Stop, you uncultured oaf,” Minhyun laughs, then reaches past him to grab the dvd cases on the coffee table. “Wouldn’t you appreciate watching a good old horror movie in the spirit of Halloween?”

“I’d much rather appreciate you instead,” Seongwoo grumbles.

To his credit, Minhyun doesn’t even blush, just tosses a cushion at Seongwoo’s face.

 

 

Thirty minutes later, they sit swathed in blankets, bedsheets, and all the pillows from their room, having come to the conclusion that neither of them can build a blanket fort that stays upright for more than five seconds. The movies sit forgotten on the coffee table, forgone in favour of curling up together amidst the sheets. Outside, the rain patters against the windowpanes, and a particularly loud strike of thunder has Minhyun flinching in surprise. Seongwoo smiles, kisses him lightly, and pulls him closer.

 

 

_dance, whirl, autumn showers,_

_with the song of bygone winds. your cheeks dyed_

_the colour of autumn leaves, the looming threat of rain_

_comes to serve as our reason to cuddle under the umbrella._

 

  

[ ❄ ]

 

The cotton-candy snowflakes are just beginning to fall, fluttering on thick coats and glass shopfronts and the faint breeze.

They’re last-minute christmas shopping, because Seongwoo is terrible at fighting procrastination, and Minhyun can never say no to seeing the Christmas lights. Today, too, Minhyun drinks in the sights with boundless energy, and Seongwoo can’t help but marvel at how Minhyun never runs out of things to be fascinated by.

The night is cold, and Minhyun finds himself blowing on his hands to warm them up, the winter chill biting even through his gloves. Seongwoo clocks the action, then takes Minhyun’s hand in his and slides them both into his pocket.

It makes Minhyun smile, softly, cheeks dusted a rosy pink.

 

 

Later that night, they’re curled up in bed with the heaters turned up, Minhyun snug against Seongwoo’s side.

“Look, Daniel sent a video,” Seongwoo says, turning his phone to Minhyun. Daniel’s spinning the camera around the room, though it’s a little too fast for Seongwoo to make out anything except the glowing blur of fairy lights. There’s singing in the background, and Minhyun laughs when the camera pans to a very drunk Jisung hugging their tree and crooning christmas carols into its leaves.

“Didn’t that happen last year too?” Minhyun laughs, “Daniel should really buy less wine.”

“You know he can never say no to Jisung,” Seongwoo points out, _much like I can’t say no to you._

 

 

Christmas night ends up being embarrass-your-friends-with-videos-of-them-from-years-ago night. Seongwoo’s taken to showing Minhyun clips from past years’ Christmas parties, reliving the raucous laughter and terribly-belted carols.

Somewhere along the way, Minhyun’s fallen quiet against his side. Seongwoo almost thinks he’s drifted off, till he snuggles closer, drawing the covers tighter around himself.

“Could you,” Minhyun starts, voice soft and slightly slurred with sleep, “could you show me a photo of him?”

They both know who he’s talking about; he isn’t the first to ask this question. Seongwoo obliges him, just as he’s done many times before, many lifetimes before.

He scrolls past the photo albums to the very first one, the one created all those winters ago with hitched breaths and tear-stained fingers. Opening it, he taps on the one of Minhyun caught in a moment of candid laughter, bliss sparkling in his eyes.

It’s Seongwoo’s favourite. It had taken him close to a year before he’d been able to look at it again.

He looks at it, now, and somehow it doesn’t hurt to see Minhyun’s smile, the sweetness on his lips that Seongwoo can no longer taste, but can still remember.

"He's beautiful," Minhyun murmurs, and long ago Seongwoo would have had to tamp down the urge to say _was_.  
  
Now, instead, he smiles.  
  
"Yeah."

 

 

_dance, whirl, scattered snowflakes,_

_and take with you the silence of the night._

_once you place your hand in my pocket_

_let us cuddle close, from season to season._

  

 

[ ♡ ]

 

Perhaps Seongwoo will never forget that autumn, all those years ago, of first times and bashful kisses and sleepy sunrises spent together. Pretty pink dusting Minhyun’s cheeks, pretty pink dyeing the petals he left behind.

Sometimes, Seongwoo wonders who it is that he loves -- is it Minhyun, or is it simply this vague concept, this nebulous idea, of Minhyun, spanning the countless times he’s asked Jisung to wield his magic for him, the countless times he’s fallen over and over again. How can he claim to love someone if it isn’t one, but so many, all different in their own ways?

Perhaps it is just to assuage the guilt whatever little he can, to live with himself a little easier, but Seongwoo likes to believe that there is a shred of the real Minhyun in every iteration of him. That maybe they are just another cruel, timeworn rendition of soulmates torn apart and doomed to reincarnate endlessly, searching for each other through all their lifetimes. Except he isn’t searching, because this isn’t a treasure hunt. This is just him, unchanging, learning to love and love and _love._ Learning that he may never be whole again, but maybe he doesn’t have to be whole to be happy.

Learning that he can love the Minhyun right next to him, and maybe, just maybe, that will be enough.

 

 

_you, dyed in scenic beauty_

_and those days of flowers_

_blooming in abundance_

_are now a distant memory._

 

_your black hair in spring,_

_the shoals of summer,_

_your autumn-coloured cheeks,_

_how in winter, you rise from slumber grumpy, too–_

 

_(i love all those parts of you.)_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i got back into twitter right as onghwang week started so this is really rushed i'm sorry!! i hope it is at least half decent!!!!! i really love this universe, so i thought i'd write a little follow-up for another glimpse into their little world. ♡
> 
> this fic was inspired by mafumafu and soraru's song, [swaying from season to season](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7sr5zv1EkI). the lyrics describe flower shop au onghwang perfectly :")
> 
> happy onghwang week! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚
> 
> (you can yell at me [@berryhyuns](https://twitter.com/berryhyuns) ♡)


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